This is the rest of the letter Grandpa wrote to Lad and Dan, both in France, and Ced, still working in Anchorage, Alaska, Dick in Brazil and Dave, somewhere in the Pacific theater.
And Catherine Warden writes that about three weeks ago Paul was notified to be ready to ship within 10 days, but as yet, orders haven’t come through. He is now ACM 3/c — that’s a third class petty officer – – Aviation Ordinance Man – – a rate comparable to T/4 in the Army, I think. At least he gets the same pay. “We have finally made up our minds what we will do when Paul is shipped out. It is most likely that he will draw sea duty. I did wish I could go back to Trumbull, but that’s out of the question too, I guess. So we are going to my sister’s in Orange, Mass. What do you hear from Dave? Both Paul and I have written him several times but we haven’t heard from him yet. I had a letter from Jimmy McLinch today in which he asks for Dave’s address, saying he hadn’t heard from him since he was at Crowder. I was very much surprised at Dan’s news. You certainly are collecting your daughters-in-law quickly, aren’t you? I do hope you have all gotten out your French grammars so you will be able to talk to the new one when she gets to Daniels Farm. My new address some time after the first of the month will be C/o Cegiel, 26 Beacon St., Orange, Mass.”
One final news item. Thursday Elsie came up on a late afternoon train, heralded by a phone call from Mrs. Burlingame saying that she had just packed her on the train, that she was not feeling at all well and to please see that she got to a doctor right away. To make a long story short, after much delay in meeting her and finding the doctor, I finally got her to Dr. Trautman. She was quite weak, had a fever of 104, a headache and was generally ka-put. After an examination, Doc. said he could find nothing definite, gave her some pills, told her to stay in bed. He said it looked like something the boys in the Army were having called “cat fever”, cat short for catarrhal. The next day the fever had gone but she developed a swelling and very sore spot on her lower leg. Treatment with Epsom salts seems to be helping and probably she will go over for a checkup by the doctor tomorrow. She really ought to stay up here for a week to get thoroughly rested up before she goes back to her daily grind in the Grand Central foxhole, but I imagine there will be some difficulty in selling her on the idea.
The purple iris, by the front steps, are blossoming. The lilacs are still not in full bloom due probably to the continued cool weather. I spent today doing odd jobs, such as emptying accumulated bottles and rubbish, taking down a few more storm windows and putting up screens, digging dandelions out of the lawn, mowing the grass, taking out ashes and smoothing out driveway, etc. – – Just the old routine.
P. S. Here is a note from your Aunt Elsie, written in lead pencil in her own fair hand while in bed, and transcribed by her only brother, as a service of love.
Did you hear that strange but vaguely familiar note? That was Aunt Elsie. Now, here’s something really new! I struck a booby-trap in New York the other day and up came a cat – – short for catarrhal fever. I ran to Trumbull for a good doctor (those in New York haven’t any time or consideration for anybody because they are so overworked). Dr. Trautman routed the cat over night, but I get off too easy. The cat had planted another trap, this time striking my left leg by breaking some veins and playing havoc with my ability to even stand up – – let alone walk. It all comes from my being on my feet so constantly in the Shop. The only thing that prevents me from jumping into the booby-trap itself is the wonderful attitude of the gang. Jean was away, visiting her mother’s home, when I took possession of her room and then wouldn’t let me move. Aunt Betty waits on me “hand and foot”. Marian serves me without fuss or feathers when I am around her and need something, in the midst of many other things she is doing at the same time. Alfred can always find time to help. That attitude dates back to our young youth.
Be seeing you before long – – maybe, who knows!
Tomorrow and Thursday, I’ll be posting a letter from Lad to his Father and those at home. On Friday, I’ll post a letter from Biss to Ced, her older brother in Alaska.
On Saturday and Sunday, I’ll have more early memories of Trumbull from the children.